


To Die For, To Live By

by KashaRin



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hope's Peak Academy (Dangan Ronpa), Angst, M/M, Multiple referenced characters, Suicidal Thoughts, ventfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-09 21:15:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16457354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KashaRin/pseuds/KashaRin
Summary: Kokichi Ouma compiles a list of reasons to live versus reasons to die. The results are disheartening at best. But maybe there's at least something he can look forward to.





	To Die For, To Live By

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on doing my other drafts and stuff but this is mainly to help me personally with my mental state. Don't commit suicide, please. It seems like a very inviting idea at times but it never is. If you're considering it, please contact the suicide prevention hotline of your area, wherever that may be.

The ticking clock was the only noise of the darkened dorm room. It read 11:59 P.M. , but the room's only inhabitant hadn't looked at the time in nearly eight hours. The curtains were drawn shut, having blocked out the light even when there was light to be blocked, shrouding the room in darkness apart from a single desktop lamp. 

Kokichi Ouma sat at his desk, looking over two sheets of paper. One of which was labelled "Reasons to die", while the other was titled "Reasons to live". In red ink on the first sheet, the entire page was filled with jotted down notes and bullet points, the space being so crammed full that there wasn't any room for additions. Whereas, the other page only had three notes on it, multiple of which were crossed out. 

He had found a recommendation online to write a list of all the things he could look forward to in life whenever he felt especially suicidal, and in a last-ditch effort Ouma had actually tried to do it. His first list had turned into the now-full "Reasons to die" page, evidently not working out very well. 

All he had going to keep him alive was, according to his list, "Panta", "Pranks" and crossed out in bold lettering, "D.I.C.E.". The supreme leader winced every time he thought of them, how he'd failed them. They encouraged him to attend Hope's Peak when he got the letter of acceptance, and like an idiot he'd accepted, leaving them leaderless. It wasn't long after that they'd disbanded, doing the one thing he could never pull off; growing up.

Ouma bit into his pen hard, feeling physical pain just from the memory. Or it could have been because of one of Harukawa's assaults, he couldn't tell the difference anymore. Were it not for makeup, he had little doubt that a lot of his body would be as purple as his favorite drink, given how often the others resort to violence. Not that he blamed them; if anything he deserved worse. 

If there was one thing the supreme leader was good at, it was driving people away. Be it for their own good or his, he had an innate ability to make everyone around him utterly despise his existence almost as much as he did. Ouma convinced himself that he preferred it that way, and sometimes he could even almost believe it. 

Absently, he grabbed his blue pen again, having mangled the red one with his nervous writing tic. It wouldn't matter if he switched colors on the death sheet, right? Not that anyone would ever be allowed to read it and judge anyway.

Ouma sat quietly for what seemed like another eternity, trying desperately to think of any excuse besides Panta that could possibly justify his continued breathing, coming up empty each time. Save for several new reasons to die, he had nothing. His mind was either working against him, or he really was just a pathetic excuse for a human cobbled together by lies and cheats. He had the scars to prove that he'd been trying to remedy the mistake of his existence already.

In the midst of his self-loathing, however, his phone buzzed from across the desk. Assumedly it was just an email notification or something, maybe someone yelling at him over text again. That was always fun. 

Upon checking it, however, the supreme leader found that it was actually a text from Amami. The other boy (along with Gokuhara, but he got along with everyone) was one of the few people that didn't seem one hundred percent put off by him, and Ouma had always appreciated that. He'd even began to take a liking to him. Of course, he could never tell Amami that; he'd ruin whatever it was they already had.

He opened the text, smiling genuinely for the first time that week at it's content. It was an image of the other boy holding his hand toward the side of the frame, in half of a heart symbol. All that he'd put to preface the photo was a single line; "Finish the heart". 

For once, the supreme leader didn't feel like being difficult to the small act of (somewhat) kindness, and he quickly reformed the mask of jovial innocence that he'd crafted so well. 

Careful not to give anything away with his angle, Ouma did the same hand motion as Amami had, to the opposite side of the frame, giving a pantomimed kiss as he took the photo. He hit send quickly, before he had the chance to back himself out, and adopted his usual persona again.

"I always knew you loved me, my beloved~! Let's get married right away!" The supreme leader sent, trying to ignore the mental image in his head of him being married to the other boy. Too much of a happy scene, it would never happen.

"Alright, I'll marry you. One condition though; you're the wife." Amami's message soon went back to him, and not even the great Ouma Kokichi could deny himself the light shade of pink that graced his burning cheeks. That mental image certainly wasn't going away very soon.

He stayed talking with Amami over text for quite some time, making extraordinary claims and calling himself out for lying while the other just took everything in stride, as usual.

By the time his crush had decided to leave and go to bed, Ouma's clock read 2:34 A.M. , which meant they'd talked for at least an hour and a half. He couldn't really tell, but that's what he assumed at least. 

Before the leader himself resigned to getting a minimal amount of rest as well, he made a point to jot down a fourth point on his list of positives. He scrawled down the words "Love Me" on the paper, internally snickering at his own joke as he moved to the bed for another hour of trying to sleep.


End file.
